


Will Caving In

by voleuse



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-12
Updated: 2004-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:52:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>I even like the feel of having to ask</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will Caving In

**Author's Note:**

> AU after "Release." Title, summary, and headings taken from Poe's "Junkie."

_i. wear the costume_

Connor squirms against mattress, and he clenches his hands in an effort not to yank at Faith's hair as her head dips between his thighs, takes his cock into her mouth.

He's not sure why this is happening, or why _him_, but he's certainly not going to complain.

She drags her teeth lightly over his shaft, provoking a whimper and a thrust, but her hands are steady on his hips, and he can barely twitch in her grasp. She does something with her tongue, and for the first time, he understands the human urge to pray.

Then Cordelia walks in.

_ii. wear the mask_

Faith and Wesley had, apparently, confronted Angelus, but aside from that, Connor isn't sure what had happened. Night still spread over the city, and the Beast was still loose upon them.

Faith was, as far as he could tell, the worse for wear. From the brief glimpses he had caught as she yanked off her T-shirt and shimmied out of her jeans, there were bruises painted across her arms and back and face.

He didn't pay so much attention to those, however, than the quantities of skin visible, taut and golden. Then she had set in on his clothes, and he suddenly found himself panting on the bed, desperate for more.

_iii. wear your grin_

Cordelia shuts the door behind her, folds her arms as she leans back against it. Her eyebrows are raised, and she lifts her chin, but she doesn't seem angry at all. In fact, Connor thinks as he watches her the corners of her lips curve, she looks like she's about to laugh.

He bucks against Faith, partly out panic, and partly for the sheer pleasure of it, but her grip is still firm on his hips.

He throws his head back, manages to stutter, "C-cor--"

"Don't worry, Connor." Her voice is silky smooth, sends a shiver down his spine. "I'm not angry."

_iv. my will caving in_

Faith pulls back, and he sobs, still painfully aroused. So close.

"Didn't think you were the type to share, Cor." She sits back on her heels.

Cordelia smiles, and Connor gapes as she slips out of her skirt, her blouse. "I can be generous." She sheds her clothing like a dancer, and stands beside Faith.

Connor doesn't know where to look first. He wonders if it would insult either of them if he touched himself.

Faith laughs, kneels, and ducks her head between Cordelia's legs.

Cordelia has no problems with grabbing Faith's hair.

_v. for your love_

Cordelia is moaning.

Connor watches her hands slip over her barely-protruding belly, over her heavy breasts, circling her nipples and then sliding back down again.

He watches Faith's hands dance over Cordelia's thighs, leaving fading marks that will probably become bruises by morning. He watches one of her hands dip between her own legs.

When his attention returns to Cordelia, she's watching him, as well.

"Connor." Her tone is stern.

He sits up, hands carefully placed on his knees. "Yeah?"

"Fuck her."

It takes him a second to fully process the order.

_vi. i'm not a junkie_

He's hesitant at first, unsure of his welcome, but Cordelia's face is adamant, and Faith's hips twitch invitingly. He kneels behind her, uses one hand to guide himself as she spreads her knees wider.

He inches into her slowly, still unused to the sensation. When he's fully sheathed in her, Faith twists her hips in an entirely new way, and he's nearly overwhelmed. She does it again, faster, harder, and it's like holy water in his veins.

He curls one hand around her hip, the other just under her breasts and thrusts, helplessly,

Above them, Cordelia yowls her approval.

_vii. don't you tell him._

Cordelia fists her hands in Faith's hair, and Connor plunges into her, again and again, gasping each time she pushes back, strangled yelps intermingling.

The moans spilling from Cordelia's lips are almost an incantation, and Connor thinks he could almost parse out words, if he could only concentrate on something besides the point where he and Faith are joined, in and out and in, and he's almost not sure where they part.

He almost catches words, Cordelia's pronunciation becoming clipped, but Faith stiffens between them, bucking awkwardly against Connor thrice before her muscles go limp, and she twines her arms around Cordelia's thighs, still busily working her tongue against her.

_viii. keep it coming_

Cordelia arches back, almost backwards, keening through her teeth. When she returns to herself, she roughly pushes Faith away from her, and, startled by the movement, Connor pulls out and shuffles back, unsure.

Faith whirls, surprisingly graceful, and steadies Connor in his kneel before straddling him again. He automatically curls his hands around her waist as she lowers onto his cock, and over her shoulder, he sees Cordelia stretch and settle into a chair opposite them.

He regains his equilibrium, turns his attention back to Faith, but before he's completely refocused, he sees Cordelia smile.

_ix. you got the power_

Connor forgets everything except this.

Faith's body on his, her breath harsh in his ear, her nails scoring his shoulders as she rises and falls against him. The swing of her hair as it brushes against his face, the taste of her sweat as he runs his tongue against her neck, her collarbone, her breast.

The sound of their skin, slapping together, counterpoint to the growls of _fuck_ and _god, yeah, like that_ from her, and his helpless snarls.

He can't feel anything but her, can't see or hear anything else.

He's never known anything but fucking Faith, and he's never thought of anything else.

There is nothing but

being

inside of

her fucking

her

_x. i got the shame_

Connor collapses, and Faith after him, sated after minuteshoursdays.

His eyelids feel heavy, but he manages a sliver of sight, watches Cordelia as she rises from her seat and sways across the room.

She crouches over them, cool and unruffled. Eases a hand over Connor's brow, then smoothes Faith's hair.

She murmurs incoherently, that almost-incantation again, but he can discern words, though they aren't in English.

He's on the brink of realizing _something_, but she touches him again, and he falls, falls, falls.


End file.
